


mint condition

by quarterleigh



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Comic Book Artist Even, M/M, Surgeon Isak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21725200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quarterleigh/pseuds/quarterleigh
Summary: They're twelve hours into operation when he hears Even's name for the first time in fifteen years.Isak is a pediatric oncologist who may or may not be harboring feelings for a man from his past.
Relationships: Even Bech Næsheim/Isak Valtersen
Comments: 95
Kudos: 863





	1. splash page

**Author's Note:**

> If you follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/quarterleigh), you might know that I wrote a few social media AUs, took a break to start working on a traditional fic and then pretty much dropped off the face of the earth. This is... not that fic that I took a break for. I'm still working on that. But it won't be finished this year (I don't know if you know this but working retail during the holiday season means you pretty much have no time for anything else), and I had this idea for a shorter, easier to write fic and wanted to get it out while I can. It's going to be three chapters and I'm estimating only about 6000-8000 words total, but I hope to have the rest of it up soon. I hope you enjoy! Let me know if you do. <3

They’re twelve hours into operation when he hears Even’s name for the first time in fifteen years. “She’s obsessed with comic books,” He hears Yousef murmuring to another nurse. Isak would never say it, but he hates when they do this. He wishes he didn’t have to know anything about the young girl on his table. “Her favorite is that, that… oh what is it called? The Even Bech Næsheim one.” 

Isak has a steady hand. He’s practiced enough that he doesn’t jerk or tremble, but his heart skips a beat. Or two.

“Oh,  _ The Golden Magician! _ ” One of the nurses interjects. “They’re making a movie about that one, you know.” 

“I know, she can’t stop talking about it. When she was a little out of it on painkillers she asked me to take her to the premiere.” 

“Bless.” 

Isak clears his throat. “Clamp, please.” He leans back on his stool, exhausted. 

“We’re nearly there, Valtersen,” Yousef says, his voice calm and reassuring. “You’re going to get it all.” Isak is reminded of why he’s the most popular nurse on the floor, among the staff, patients, and parents alike. 

“Thanks, Acar.” 

It ends up taking another hour and a half, but Isak gets to deliver good news to the parents. 

“It’s gone?” Her mother’s voice is wrecked, wobbly and scratchy and wet. 

“We’ll still need to run some more tests to see if it was cancerous, but the tumor is completely out.”

“You got it all?” 

“We did.” It wasn’t easy, and recovery is going to be a bitch- the goddamn thing was lodged in her spine. 

“Can we see her?” 

“They’re moving her now, it’ll be just a few minutes,” he says. “Do you have any questions for me?” 

“No, just- thank you. Thank you, doctor.” She’ll think of some questions later, Isak knows. 

“It was my pleasure. Ana is a strong kid.” 

“She is,” her father agrees. Isak’s eyes catch on a comic book curled up in his fist. 

“Doing some reading there?” He asks, nodding at the book. 

“What? Oh, no, this is for Ana. It’s her favorite issue, we’re going to read it together when she wakes up.” 

“That’s a great idea.” He doesn’t say that it’s pointless, that her pain meds are going to keep her from focusing on anything for a few days. “I’ll be back to see you all in the morning. Nurse Sara will take you back when it’s time.” 

“Thank you, thank you.” 

Isak manages to slip out without being embraced, and takes the bus home. He has a car in the staff lot, but he’s always too tired to drive after operating. 

When he gets home, his flat is cold and quiet, the way he's always liked it. He takes a quick shower, collapses into bed, and doesn’t think of anything. 

_ Even Bech Næsheim. Blue eyes, full lips. Soft hair. Big hands. Long fingers.  _ Isak wakes up dreaming of Even’s hands like he’s fourteen again. He’s hard, but it’s not a sex dream. It might as well be. He tries to pull back the whispers of the dream, tries to hang on to the images of Even and his little green sketchbook, but they fly away before he opens his eyes.  _ Even _ . 

It’s not like he didn’t know Even was successful. He had started publishing comics when they were practically still kids, it’s not a surprise that he’s still at it. But- a movie? Did Isak hear that nurse right? Maybe it was a stress-induced hallucination. 

Isak glances at the clock. He has fifteen minutes before his alarm. He could try to fall back asleep, try to fall back into the soft and fuzzy dream world, but. 

He grabs his phone from his nightstand and goes to google. He only gets as far as "Even" before it auto fills. _Even Bech Næsheim_. _33 years old_. _Norwegian comic book artist, author, editor._ Isak sucks in a breath and clicks through to the Wikipedia page. 

His hair is long. Shoulder-length. There's a tattoo peeking out from under his shirt sleeve- it looks floral. Maybe a rose. He has those crinkles around his eyes even when he’s not smiling. Isak wishes he was smiling. The one picture on his Wikipedia page, the picture that’s meant to establish who Even is as a person, and he’s not smiling? It doesn’t feel right. 

He quickly scrolls past ‘personal life’ and expands ‘career’. He skims the paragraph, learning the names of his various comic books over the years. There’s a short blurb about all of them, and then-  _ The Golden Magician!  _ There's a link to an entirely separate page.  **_The Golden Magician!_ ** _ is a comic book series by author and artist Even Bech Næsheim. It focuses on the life of a teenage boy named Felix with supernatural healing powers, and his struggle to keep them concealed while trying to use them for good. When the series begins, Felix is reluctant to use his powers at all _ \- Isak’s heart jumps to his throat. There’s an excerpt from the comic, a single panel of Felix’s face staring directly at the reader, eyes wide, looking terrified. His lips are slightly parted, with a prominent Cupid’s bow marking his distinctive mouth. 

Isak has seen this character before- sketched on folded up papers, tucked away in his schoolbooks. Doodled on post it notes and stuck to his bathroom mirror. 

_ “Why do you make me look so girly?” _ He remembers complaining to Even, once.  _ “My hair isn’t that curly. And I’m not blushing all the time.”  _

_ “I don’t know what to tell you, Is.”  _ Even had shrugged.  _ “That’s what you look like to me.”  _

_ “Fuck you,”  _ H e had laughed, secretly pleased. They were young, and Isak had enjoyed it, really. Even had to have known, or he wouldn't have kept drawing them. Isak kept them all, every last scrap of paper with his cartoon face scribbled on it. He hasn’t looked at them in years, since he moved into his flat, but he knows exactly where they are the back of his file cabinet. 

_Felix Volden. The Golden Magician._ _A teenage boy with fluffy curls, a perpetual blush and the power to heal._ Even had reimagined him as some plucky teenaged hero, and wrote stories about it. An entire series. There was going to be a movie, fucking hell. What an asshole. 

“Oh, holy shit, you DO look like The Golden Magician!” The thing about Magnus is that he isn’t incredibly perceptive. “I never even- holy shit.” 

“Wait, so who is Even Bech Næsheim?” Jonas asks, brows furrowed impressively. 

“Uh, only the greatest comic book author of this century,” Magnus scoffs. 

“My almost brother,” Isak explains. 

“Ah,” Jonas nods. He’s familiar with the story; Isak had told him the whole sorry thing the night they met in University, when he was drunk and bitter and heartbroken. He sometimes can’t believe Jonas still wanted to be friends after that. 

“Your almost brother? What’s an almost brother? Is that like half-brother?” 

“No, he was almost my stepbrother. Our parents were engaged when we were teenagers, it was a whole thing. They got together when I was twelve. We lived in the same house for like a year when I was sixteen. But then our parents split up like a month before the wedding.” 

Jonas snorts. “Yeah, good thing too.” 

“Oh, was it a bad relationship?” 

“No- I mean yes, I would assume so- but I mean because Isak was like, in love with him,” Jonas fills in the details while Isak covers his face with his hands and groans. 

“Oh, shit,” Magnus says. “Are you for real?” 

“This is the worst,” Isak moans. “Now I’m going to have to like… talk to him and stuff.” 

“Why?” 

“Because! He can’t keep doing this! That’s my face! He can’t use my face to make money!” 

“Oh my god, Isak! You can’t ask him to stop making The Golden Magician! I’ll never forgive you!” Magnus cries. “Felix still has to find out The Grey Griffin’s true identity!” 

“The grey- what the fuck? This is a nightmare.” 

“Okay, Isak,” Jonas places a steady hand on his shoulder. “There really isn’t any reason that this has to change anything. So he borrowed your face, big deal. It wasn’t affecting your life at all. I bet if you were still sixteen you’d be loving this shit.” 

“Okay, but I’m not still sixteen, Jonas. I’m a thirty-one year old pediatric oncologist. I can’t have my patients recognizing me from this.” 

“They won’t. They haven't yet. The comics are about a teenage boy. You’re a grown man. Your patients are children. They won’t make the connection.” 

“I don’t know, it does look a  _ lot  _ like him,” Magnus interjects. 

“Jesus Christ, Mags.” 

“Hey, if you do call him, can you tell him I’m a fan?” 

“Absolutely not.” 

Isak is nervous walking into Ana’s hospital room. He's always a little nervous going to see patients after operations. And now there's the added element of knowing that he's the inspiration for this particular patient's favorite comic book hero. 

“Dr. Isak!” She squeals. 

“Ana! You’re in a good mood!” It’s the first time he’s seen her conscious since the surgery. She’s smiling and as energetic as a seven-year-old laying on her stomach in a hospital bed can be, but she’s used to pain. 

“Yousef says I don’t have cancer!” 

“You mean he got to tell you before I did? No fair!” Isak feigns disappointment and Ana giggles. Truthfully he had asked Yousef if he wanted to deliver the news after the results came back all clear. Everyone on the floor knows about Ana’s not so secret crush on the nurse. “Well, let me ask you something, Ana. How is your back feeling?”

“Good,” she smiles, but her eyes are dim. 

“On a scale of one to ten, ten being the most pain you’ve ever felt in your life, one being the most comfortable you’ve ever been, where would you rate how you’re feeling now?” 

“Maybe… a three?” 

“A three? Are you sure?” Isak crouches down next to the bed so she can look him in the eyes. 

“Or maybe a four,” she amends, but her smile is gone now that she’s focusing on the pain. 

“Maybe a four? What if you try to roll over?” 

“No!” She says, voice sharp. 

“You think that would hurt?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay. You’re doing so great, Ana. It’s going to start feeling better soon, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

Isak rises back up on his feet and chats with the parents for a few minutes. He can’t help but try to subtly scan the room for comic books. Maybe if he saw it in person... He doesn’t notice any. 

He makes sure to up Ana’s pain meds slightly before he leaves. 

Isak doesn’t call Even. He’d have to track down his number, which would involve calling his father and then having him get back in touch with Even’s mother, which he probably, most likely, definitely wouldn’t be willing to do anyway. So there’s really no way to contact him. 

Unless he’s had the same phone number all these years. It’s so unlikely, Isak almost wants to try it. He still has it, still uses the same SIM card with all their old texts taking up a healthy chunk of space on his phone. 

It takes him a few minutes to find them, but he opens up their old text thread just to see. 

He remembers these last few messages. They were all he thought about for months. 

_ Yeah, I’ll call you in a few hours :)  _

_ Haha okay _

_ Even?  _

_ You okay? lol  _

They were supposed to keep in touch. Even had promised him, through tears, that they would. And then he fell off the face of the Earth. Isak had had enough good sense that he knew when he was being ghosted, so he let him go. And that was that. Their entire friendship ended with a  _ lol _ . Isak sighs. It shouldn’t still hurt. It’s been fifteen years and he knows they had a weird relationship- it makes total sense that Even would want to cut and run. Why would he want an ex-almost-step brother who worshipped his every move hanging around- Isak feels a soft vibration. He’s confused for a second, thinks he’s getting a text and then he realizes-  _ FUCK _ . He watches in horror as a blue thumbs up appears on top of Even’s last message. How did he do that? Did he just like Even’s message? That’s not a feature he ever uses.  _ Maybe Even can’t see it. Maybe it’s just like… a bookmark or something. Maybe it’s not his number anymore and he wouldn’t be able to see it anyway. _

Three blinking dots appear on the left side of the screen. 

_ lol _

_ hi isak?  _

  
  



	2. encapsulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The whole world loved Even, and he loved it back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so grateful to everyone who took the time to read the first chapter of this, and those of you who left kudos and comments. I truly have never been in a fandom that gave so much enthusiastic encouragement on a short first chapter of a fic. I'm blown away. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I had a lot of fun writing it. <3

When Isak was twelve, he hated his father. “Don’t use the word ‘hate’,” His older sister Lea had told him. “You don’t hate him.” But he did. He hated the way Terje spoke, calm and quiet, even when the world was crashing around them. He hated the way Terje expected him to continue excelling at his schoolwork while he was divorcing Isak’s mother and locking her away in an institution. He hated the way he got a girlfriend before the ink was dry on the papers. Most of all, he hated that he had to continue living with him in the same house they had always lived in, as if his mother had never existed there at all. There were still marks on the walls where family portraits used to hang. 

They barely spoke to each other. Terje tried, but when he continued to get nothing but rolled eyes in return, he took to communicating everything through Lea. 

The night Isak met Even, Terje had to beg him to be nice. It was also the first time he was meeting Even’s mother, Sigrid. Terje’s new girlfriend. “Please, please, please. Please be kind.” Isak scoffed. 

“He won’t be mean, Dad,” Lea said, annoyed. Isak appreciated the vote of confidence, but had no intentions of being nice. 

“Okay. You’ll like Even. I think you’ll get along.” 

Terje was wrong about a lot of things, but he was right about Even. Isak liked him, and they got along. He had an easy smile and an air of confidence that was unusual for a fourteen year old. “Even is very creative,” Sigrid said, a few minutes into dinner. “He likes to draw. Even, show them your sketchbook.”

Even shot Isak an exasperated look- like it was an inside joke, like he was saying  _ ‘parents, am I right?’.  _ It made Isak giggle in a way that he would have been embarrassed about if it weren’t for the pleased grin on Even’s face. 

Later that night, Even did show him his sketchbook, and Isak was amazed. “You could sell these!” Pages upon pages of cartoon people, all distinct, all emotive. “You could draw for Disney!” They were sprawled out on the floor in front of the tv, shoulder to shoulder, flipping through the pages together. 

“Stop,” Even laughed. “They’re not that good.” They were. Isak knew it even back then. 

“Is this what you want to do when you grow up?” 

“Maybe,” Even said, shrugging. “I like storytelling, too. So. I might want to write instead.”

“You could do both.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Even’s face was flushed red. “What do you want to do?” He asked, switching the focus.

“I’m going to be a doctor,” Isak said proudly. 

“Oh, wow,” Even said. “You must be smart.” 

“I am.” It wasn’t arrogance if it was true. “I’m the best student in my class.” 

“Well, maybe you can skip a couple of grades, come to school with me instead.” 

“Yeah, right. I’m not interested in being the smallest kid in school.” It wasn’t funny but Even threw his head back and laughed. It was strange, it felt like they were already best friends. Isak knew almost nothing about him, but he felt like he knew Even’s soul. He had never had a friend that made him feel this way before. 

“I like that that’s the only thing stopping you. Like, you know you’re smart enough, you just don’t want to be smaller than everyone.” 

“Hey, I am smart enough.” 

“Oh, I believe you.” 

“Ugh,” Lea groaned from the couch. The boys both jumped, startled. “This is boring. I’m going upstairs.” 

“Oh. Okay,” Isak said as she left. 

“I forgot she was in here,” Even whispered. “Oops.”

“Don’t feel bad. I always forget about Lea,” Isak whispered back. It was kind of a mean joke, but they both collapsed into giggles. 

At the end of the night, after they said their goodbyes and the house was quiet again, Terje gave Isak a smug smile.  _ See? Told you,  _ he seemed to be saying. Isak was only a little annoyed. 

  
  


When Isak was thirteen, he grew taller. Not as tall as Even- he probably wouldn’t ever catch up to Even- but significantly taller. His jawline got sharper and his muscles got stronger. That was the year Even started drawing pictures of him. 

He didn’t recognize it as himself at first, when Even pushed a page from his sketchbook across the table to him. “I’m studying,” he grumbled, trying to forget that Even was there. He never got any work done around Even. 

“Uh, I know,” Even said, tapping the paper with his long index finger. Isak took a second look. 

It was a rendering of himself, furiously flipping through a textbook with an exaggerated expression on his face. Even had added a pencil tucked into his wild, unkempt hair. 

“Oh, very nice,” Isak said flatly. 

“Do you like it?” 

“No,” Isak said, sliding it back across the table. Even laughed. He knew Isak well enough not to be offended. 

“Do you want me to quiz you?” He asked, reaching for Isak’s book. 

“Not really. But yes,” Isak said, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. Even’s voice was deep- seemed to be getting deeper every day. It made Isak feel calm. 

The next day, Isak found the drawing tucked into his textbook.  _ Good luck on your exam! :D  _ Even had scrawled in the corner. 

Isak kept it on his desk for the duration of the exam, peeking out from behind the test papers. He didn’t believe in luck, but it couldn’t hurt. 

When Isak was fourteen, Even went missing. Not for long, just a few hours, but long enough to sufficiently scare everyone. 

They were meant to meet at Isak’s house after school. They always spent the afternoons together until their parents came home in the evenings. When Even didn’t show and didn’t respond to Isak’s flurry of texts and calls, he knew something was wrong. 

Sigrid and Terje both came home from work early, enlisting neighbors and friends to form a search party. 

“Call all of his friends!” Terje insisted. 

“He doesn’t have any other friends,” Lea said. “It’s just Isak.” It would have sounded like an insult if it weren’t for the panic in her voice. Even would never bail on Isak. He wouldn’t. 

“Do we call the police?” Isak asked.

“I think there’s a waiting period for missing persons reports,” said a neighbor. 

“For fucks sake, just call them!” Sigrid yelled, tossing her phone at Terje, before driving off in the direction of Even’s school.

An officer found him an hour later, walking the train tracks barefoot. Isak begged to go to the station, sick with confusion, but Terje felt it would be too much for both of them. 

Even didn’t leave his room for three days. 

When Isak was fifteen, Lea moved out and Even moved in. A month after Lea left, Sigrid had asked Isak how he would feel if she began living with them. “Is Even coming?” Isak asked, happiness bubbling up at the thought of it. 

“Well, of course!” She laughed. 

“Okay, cool,” Isak said, shrugging, trying not to scream in her face with joy. 

“You would be okay with that?” 

“Yeah, sure.” Sigrid gave him a hug so strong and sweet and  _ motherly _ that he almost cried. 

“I love you, Isak,” she said, stroking his hair. “You know that, right? Like my own son.” 

He couldn’t do anything but nod. What was it about the Bech Næsheims? How did they envelop him in warmth and kindness so entirely? Isak was convinced there was no one else on earth like them. 

Even was not excited, and it made Isak feel like shit. He was  _ angry.  _ “This is bullshit!” He said over the phone when Isak called him, excited. 

“Why are you mad?” 

“You know what this means, right?” Even asked condescendingly. “They’re going to get fucking engaged. You know that, right? Single parents don’t pick up and move their kids in with someone if they aren’t planning on getting married.” Isak hadn’t thought about it, but he was probably right.

“Okay, so? What’s wrong with that?” Even just scoffed, like Isak should already know the answer. “Whatever. Call me when you’re not going to be a dick,” Isak said before hanging up the phone. His hands were shaking, but he didn’t cry. He refused to cry. 

A few hours later, he got a text. 

_ Sorry I blew up on you earlier. Think my new meds are fucking with me, haha. I’m excited to live with you, I promise. Sleep well :) _

Isak forgave him, and they never talked about it. 

Living with Even changed everything. Isak had been so excited to have his best friend in the room next door that he hadn’t been prepared for the reality of it. 

And the reality of it was that Isak was slowly becoming obsessed with him. With the way he leaned into Isak on movie nights, pressing into his side. With the way his hair looked when he styled it up off his face. With the way his hair looked when it fell soft and shaggy over his eyes. Even became all he could think about. He fell asleep to thoughts of his hands and he woke up to thoughts of his lips, chest, thighs.

“Why haven’t you ever had a girlfriend?” Isak asked one night when he was feeling brave. Even didn’t even look up from his sketchbook. 

“Just haven’t met a girl I find interesting enough, I guess.”

“That’s kind of a shitty thing to say.” 

“Well, I’m kind of a shitty person,” Even said, voice dark. It hadn’t been a great week for him. 

“Don’t say that,” Isak said, laying his palm on Even’s back. A few nights before, Isak had laid on top of the covers in Even’s bed, hand resting between his shoulder blades as Even laid on his stomach, trying to sleep.  _ I like when you touch me _ , he had mumbled.  _ Makes me feel safe.  _

Even shrugged his hand off. “Don’t touch me,” he said, gathering his art supplies and walking away. Nothing about Even made sense anymore. 

Terje and Sigrid got engaged. They told the boys over breakfast, like it was just another innocuous piece of news.  _ Make sure you take the trash out before you go. Let us know if you need any money for lunch. We’re engaged. Do you have all your homework done? _

When Isak glanced over at Even, he was grimacing.  _ You were right, _ Isak thought.  _ I get it. This is bullshit.  _

Isak’s grades never slipped, not even a bit. School was easy, but he was never bored. “I love how much you love science,” Even said one day when Isak was rambling on about black holes. “I love it when you get excited.” 

“It’s so interesting,” Isak insisted. He wished Even would listen more carefully, there’s no way he wouldn’t find it as cool as Isak did. Even just smiled, watching Isak flush under the attention. He had been adding flushed cheeks to all of his drawings of Isak lately. He carried around a pink colored pencil specially. “Well, I think it’s interesting,” Isak said, softly. 

“You know what else is interesting?” Even asked after a moment. He looked nervous, suddenly.

“Hm?” 

“Boys.” Isak’s heart stopped. Did Even know? Was this is way of pushing Isak to admit to the things he couldn’t stop thinking about? The things that still scared him, as much as he wanted them? 

“Boys?” Isak asked, practically choking on his words. 

“Yeah,” Even said, staring at the ground. “I think… I think I find boys… interesting.” 

“Boys?” Isak repeated, dumbly. 

“Uh, yeah. Like, in the same way that girls are interesting, I think that boys are too. And like, non-binary people. Everyone, really.”

“You find everyone interesting,” Isak said. 

“Yeah. I mean not  _ everyone. _ But like… all kinds of people. Are interesting to me. In… romantic ways.” 

“Yeah, I get it,” Isak said, because he did. Of course Even would feel this way. The whole world loved Even, and he loved it back. There are no barriers with Even. 

“Okay. So what do you think? About that?” 

“I think I’m gay,” Isak blurted out. Even smiled. 

“Yeah, I think I knew that.” 

“You knew?” He had been trying so hard not to let it show. 

“I mean, word to the wise- stop watching porn on the shared computer.” 

“Oh my god,” Isak was mortified. 

“It’s okay,” Even laughed. Isak hadn’t seen him smile this wide in weeks. “You know, I actually thought I was just gay for a while.” 

“You did?” 

“Yeah,” Even shrugged. “It seemed like I only had feelings… for boys. But it turns out I’m sexually attracted to all sorts!” He said, stretching his arms out. 

“Oh my god,” Isak said again, laughing. 

“So… we’re good, right?” Even asked.

“Of course. Always.” 

Sigrid and Terje began fighting. About everything- small things, big things. But mostly about Even. It started when Terje suggested checking him into a treatment center during one of his milder episodes. “Just to keep it under control.” Sigrid was furious. 

“How dare you! How  _ dare  _ you. You want to lock him away like you did to your wife.” 

“I just want to help him, Sigrid.” 

“We can help him here. At home, with his family.” They didn’t know Isak had skipped school that day to look after Even. They didn’t know he was standing in the hallway, listening. 

When their voices lowered to quick, angry whispers, Isak retreated into Even’s bedroom. “Did you forget my tea?” He heard Even ask from under the covers. 

“Ah, no, sorry. We’re out of teabags.” 

“Oh.” Isak crawled into bed, under the covers. He wanted to feel Even’s heat. “Hey,” Even said, sounding surprised. 

“Hi,” Isak whispered, watching his eyes blink open. 

“Are you going to hold me?” Even asked, like it was something Isak had done before. 

“Do you want me to?” 

“Yeah. I do.” 

“Okay,” Isak said. He started with just his hand- lifted it to Even’s face, ran the tips of his fingers over Even’s eyebrow, down his nose, over his mouth. Even’s lips fell open, but Isak kept moving his hand down to Even’s neck, and then to the curve of his shoulder. He grasped him at the arm and pulled him in, onto his chest. 

They fell asleep, eventually, Even resting on top of him. Isak could feel his heart beat. “Love you,” Isak whispered, before they drifted off. “More than anything.” 

Even started publishing little one-panel comics in a local newspaper. Sometimes they were satirical but usually they were absurdist humor. Sometimes he would sneak inside jokes into them, and wait to see the look on Isak’s face when the paper came. “You’re ridiculous,” Isak would say, every time. He was so proud. 

Sigrid took them all out to dinner to celebrate when the paper asked if he wanted to stop freelancing and become a weekly feature. Lea even came home that weekend, and slept on the couch. Everyone was excited. 

Terje was concerned. “What if he has an episode? If he misses a week?” 

“Shut the fuck up, Terje. He’s going to be amazing,” Sigrid said, not entertaining the thought for a moment. Sometimes Isak really, really loved her. 

They kissed exactly once. Things were getting worse between Terje and Sigrid. It was going to end soon, everyone knew it. They weren’t making it down the aisle. 

Sigrid was going to leave him, and then Even would be gone. There was a tiny, selfish part of Isak that was glad for it. Whenever he imagined the wedding, standing up there with Even as their parents said their vows, he felt sick. But then he thought about Even going away, and he felt sicker. 

Every moment they had together began to feel like borrowed time. “I want to live with you forever,” Even admitted one night. “I know I was never really on board with our parents getting married but I don’t want to leave.” 

“I don’t want you to leave. I’ll be miserable without you. Just me and Terje? I can’t do it,” Isak said, voice shaking, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“Maybe they’ll last until you graduate. Maybe we can get an apartment together.” 

“Please,” Isak choked out. “They’re not going to last another week.”  _ Fuck it _ , he thought, and let himself cry. Even pulled him in and held him close. 

“Don’t cry,” Even said. “Please don’t cry. I love you. I’ll always be here. Please don’t cry.” He was cradling Isak’s head with one hand and stroking his back with the other. Isak wanted more than anything to lift his head and kiss him. It would be so easy, it would feel so good. Maybe he would even stop crying. 

“Have you ever wanted to kiss me?” He asked. He needed to know. He couldn’t live with wondering anymore. 

“Isak, come on. You can’t ask me that.” 

“Why not?!” Isak asked, pushing Even away, hysterical. “Why not? It’s not like we’re actually fucking family.” 

“Isak,” Even was pleading now. “You know why not.” 

“Is it because you do? You do, don’t you? You want me.” Isak grabbed at Even once more and pulled their faces together. He didn’t kiss him. He just rested his forehead against Even’s and stared into his eyes, into his soul. “You can fucking kiss me if you want to,” he whispered. Even didn’t move. “Please, please. Kiss me. Just once. I just need it once.” 

And then Even was kissing him, and the world went still. Everything was Even, and Isak. They were the only two things in the universe that mattered.  _ I love you, I love you, I love you, don’t leave me, I’ll never feel this way again, only you can make me feel like this, I can’t do this without you, we’re supposed to be together, closer, closer, more _ -

It was over. Even hadn’t just stopped kissing him, he had stepped away entirely, turned his back on him. “I’m sorry,” Even said. “That was fucked up.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Isak said. “Stop pretending like we shouldn’t do this. We love each other.” 

“You’re fifteen, Isak.” 

“Yeah and you’re fucking seventeen, so what? You think you have some better, higher understanding of the world than I do because you’re two fucking years older than me? You’re an asshole,” Isak said, hurt. 

“Yeah, I am.”

“You really are. You’re a fucking asshole,” Isak was crying again. He felt like he was always crying. 

“I’m sorry, Isak.” 

“I love you. Please.” 

“You shouldn’t,” Even said, and then walked away, letting Isak fall to his knees in tears. 

When Isak was sixteen, Even moved away. Sigrid and Terje’s relationship ended with a whimper. No public screaming match, no dramatic revelations. Isak simply came home from school one day and their things were packed. 

“You know I still love you like my own child, Isak,” Sigrid told him. “You can call me whenever you want, day or night, and I will answer.” 

“Where are you going to live?” 

“We’ll be staying with my parents for a while, until I find a new place. Even actually mentioned possibly moving in with some roommates in the city.” This was news to Isak. Things with Even had been frosty since the night they kissed, but he thought they were slowly regaining the friendship they once had before Isak ruined everything with his feelings. Apparently not. 

“Oh.” 

“Oh, sweetheart. You know Even cares about you very deeply. I’m sure he would love for you to come stay with him from time to time.”  _ From time to time.  _ Isak could remember when Even wanted to live with him forever. 

They were gone that night. He didn’t even get to see Even that day. 

_ hey, sorry i didn’t come see you before we left.  _

_ Yeah, where were you? _

_ I was getting stuff set up at my grandparents house. Mom told me this morning, so I just went ahead and left.  _

_ okay _

_ Sorry _

_ It’s okay :) _

_ We can still talk _

_ For sure  _

_ Can I call you? _

_ Now isn’t really a good time  _

_ oh yeah. that’s okay. _

_ I’ll call you later though  _

_ tonight, do you think? Or are you too tired _

_ I think tonight should be fine. _

_ Yeah?  _

_ Yeah, I’ll call you in a few hours :)  _

_ Haha okay :) _

_ Even?  _

_ You okay? lol _

_ lol _

_ hi isak? _

Isak can’t stop looking at the screen. He can’t stop watching as, somewhere out there, after fifteen years, Even is trying to text him. The three dots have been appearing and disappearing for several minutes now. He’s gone over their entire relationship in his mind in the time it’s taking Even to figure out what he’s trying to say. 

_ You know, most people draft their texts on the notes app before sending them so the recipient can’t see how much they’re struggling.  _

_ Sorry. _

_ Don’t know what to say. _

_ Were you reading our old texts? _

_ I was  _

_ Why _

_ One of my patients is a fan of yours. _

_ that's nice _

_ Turns out you’re quite prolific. I read up on your work. Saw some of the art.  _

_ I was wondering when I’d hear from you  _

_ Are you really just now seeing it? _

_ Sorry I haven’t been keeping tabs on you, Even.  _

_ I didn’t mean it like that.  _

_ I just mean that I’ve been doing this for a very long time.  _

_ Why?  _

_Can we talk in person?_ _Where are you living now?_

_ Still in Oslo.  _

_ Me too. Isn’t that crazy? That we’ve been in the same city for fifteen years and we’ve never run into each other?  _

_ It’s a big city. _

_ Yeah.  _

_ Okay _

_ Okay, let’s meet? _

_ Yeah. Let’s meet. _


	3. first issue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Isak can't tell what Even is about to do. He never could."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, hi. Firstly, the rating has changed to Explicit. Take from that what you will. Secondly, remember how I said this was going to be three chapters and probably like 6000 words total? Yeah, I'm a lying liar who lies. It got longer than I was expecting (that's what she said) and it felt weird pacing-wise to cram in everything that I want to have happen in one final chapter, so I'm splitting the last chapter into two. Sorry, not sorry. Thirdly, I am still blown away by the reception to this fic. Thank you so much to everyone who has been taking the time to read this story, much less leave kudos or comments! I am so grateful and it makes me so happy to see people enjoying it.

The night they start texting again, Isak reads the entirety of  _ The Golden Magician. _ He orders the series from an online seller and then decides he can’t wait for shipping so buys a second, digital copy to read immediately. 

He lays in bed with his iPad, in the dark, and devours the story in about five hours. He wants to take his time, to examine every detail, but cannot keep himself from reading more, more, more, until there’s nothing left, just a white panel that promises ‘to be continued’.

He manages to forget the strangeness of seeing his own, teenaged face looking back at him, and nearly forgets that the character is based on him at all, except. 

Except that every now and again, there are little, seemingly deliberate, references to his own personality and adolescence. When Felix starts to feed a stray cat on his way to school everyday, Isak remembers doing the same thing. When Felix is disappointed about not getting a perfect score on a quiz, despite still getting the best grade in the class, Isak remembers feeling the same way. He remembers Even teasing him about it. There are a thousand little things lifted straight from Isak’s life, from those few years he had with Even. Memories Isak hadn’t thought about in ages, but that come screaming back in full color. Even is by his side in every one of them. 

_ I can’t believe you put in the thing with the stray cat  _

_ Remember when it didn’t show up that one day and you thought it died and you cried  _

_ but then it was back again the next day  _

_ I didn’t cry _

_ You did ☺️ _

They plan to meet on a Tuesday night. Even’s schedule is more flexible than most, so he leaves it up to Isak to make the plans. Isak decides on Tuesday right away. On Tuesday nights he’s on call at the hospital and he wants to have an excuse to leave or cancel if he needs to. It takes him a bit longer to decide on the rest of it. Meeting for dinner or coffee feels too much like a date. But he’s going to need  _ something  _ to do with his hands, he can’t just meet up with Even at a bus stop and start asking him questions. 

“I don’t understand why you can’t just talk on the phone,” Jonas says. “It’s a bit risky to meet in person.” 

“He’s not a stranger, Jonas, he’s not going to kill him,” Magnus says. “ _ I  _ don’t understand why you don’t want it to feel like a date! I thought you were in love with him.” 

“Yeah, I  _ was  _ in love with him. Was. It’s been fifteen years, he might be a nazi or something now.” 

“He’s definently not a nazi. Felix punches a nazi in issue four,” Magnus reassures him, and Isak pretends not to already know everything about issue four. That’s the issue where Felix gives one of his old toy dinosaurs to his little sister to keep in her backpack and hold onto whenever she feels like she's going to have a panic attack. Isak had done the same thing for Even once, except it wasn’t a toy dinosaur, it was a green marble that Even said looked like Isak’s eyes. 

“Listen, Nazi or not, you have a complicated history with this guy. I just don’t want you to get swept up in your old feelings and not see the actual person in front of you when you meet him. You’re both different people now. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you,” Jonas interjects, cracking open his second beer of the night. 

“You know, sometimes I really hate that you’re a school counselor,” Isak says. 

“I know,” Jonas says, grinning. 

Isak decides on a food truck a few blocks away from the hospital. They can meet right after his scheduled shift, and if he gets called back in (or decides to say that he was), he’ll be right there already. 

_ Does this food truck have tacos?  _

_ No, it’s American food  _

_ Like corndogs and stuff? _

_ Like hamburgers. _

_ I’m vegan _

_ Are you actually? _

_ Yeah _

_ I don’t know if they have anything vegan…  _

_ how about we go to that restaurant that just opened up on grensen. It’s a little pricey and we’d have to wear suits but it has a nice ambience  _

_ I don’t think I want to wear a suit after my shift at the hospital, to be honest  _

_ Isak, I’m fucking with you. I eat at that food truck all the time, they know me there.  _

_ Oh _

_ Sorry, I guess tone doesn’t really translate over text  _

_ You eat at that food truck all the time?  _

_ Yeah, it’s literally meters away from my studio. I can see it from the window.  _

_ Small world.  _

_ Yeah. They do have corn dogs, btw  _

_ gross _

_ Have you ever even had one? _

_ Yeah, it was bad _

_ You must not have had the right toppings on it _

_ It didn’t have any toppings on it  _

_ Well, there you go. I’ll order you one the way I like it and if you hate it, I’ll pay for you to get something else.  _

_ Deal _

_ 😃 I’m excited.  _

_ 👍🏻 _

Isak would not say he’s excited. Tuesday seems to arrive suddenly and then drag on and on until his shift ends. “So what are you up to tonight?” Yousef asks during one of their rounds. He always asks, and Isak never has plans. 

“Just gonna head home,” he says. Yousef nods, only half-listening as he reviews a patients chart. “Might stop at that food truck on the way.” 

“Oh, nice. They have good hamburgers.” 

“Yeah,” Isak agrees. “Have you ever tried their corn dogs?” 

“No, my wife and I don’t eat pork.” 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t even think.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Yousef laughs. “I’m not really all that religious, I would probably be all over it if it weren’t for Sana.” Isak has only met her a handful of times, but he really likes Sana. She’s a researcher, and they get caught up debating what he excitedly calls ‘new science’ every time they run into each other.  _ It’s not new science, it’s always been the science, we’re only just learning about it,  _ she said once, eyes rolling. She’s cool. 

“How is Sana?” 

“She’s great!” Yousef grins. “She’s pregnant.” 

“Holy shit! Congratulations! How far along?”

“About four months. She only just started showing, so she said I can start telling people.” 

“That’s awesome. Your first, right?” 

“First of many,” Yousef says, crossing his fingers. “Allah and Sana willing.” 

“Wow,” Isak is genuine in his enthusiasm. He’s seen the way Yousef connects with kids in distress. He’s meant to be a father. “Well, I’d buy you a beer, but…” 

“No worries,” Yousef laughs. “I appreciate the thought.” 

“Can I ask you something?” Isak knows he can trust him to be non-judgmental and honest. 

“Sure.” 

“How did you know you were in love with Sana?” 

“Have you ever been in love before?” Yousef asks. 

“I’m not sure. That’s kind of what I’m trying to figure out.” 

“Well, I hate to say it but it was kind of easy for the two of us. I don’t know if you knew this, but I’ve known Sana basically my entire life. I’m close with her brother and we grew up together. So I didn’t realize it for a while, but I think I always loved her in some way. Obviously the romantic stuff came later on, but I remember being a kid and just wanting to make her smile all the time. And then we got a bit older and that feeling never stopped, it just became… more. I wanted to make her smile, and laugh, and I wanted to kiss her and hold her and I wanted to hear all of her thoughts, even when they didn’t make any sense to me. I wanted to tell her everything about me, everything that I felt and thought. She’s just the most beautiful person I’ve ever known. I can’t imagine not loving her.” Yousef says matter-of-factly. “Sorry. I know that’s probably not helpful.” 

“No, it is” Isak says. Yousef looks doubtful. “Really, it is. Thanks, Yousef. You’re a lucky guy.” 

“I know it.” 

Even is already at the food truck when Isak arrives. He’s still so, so tall. Isak wonders if he’s grown even taller in the fifteen years that have passed. His hair is shorter than it was in the picture on his Wikipedia, but still longer than he ever wore it as a teenager. He’s laughing with the food truck guy, already holding two corn dogs. Isak considers making a run for it. He could block Even’s number, pretend this never happened. Try to forget. 

But then Even sees him, and smiles wide. “Isak!” He exclaims. It’s nearly a gasp, as if he hadn’t known Isak was coming. 

“That looks disgusting,” Isak says, nodding at the corn dogs. 

“Don’t be rude, Philip worked hard on these and they’re going to be amazing.” 

“They’re good,” says the food truck guy. Philip, presumably. He’s English. 

“Oh, of course,” Isak says, taking one from Even’s outstretched hand. Their fingers brush and it feels like fire. “Why wouldn’t I trust an Englishman serving American food in Norway?” 

“Exactly,” Even says. He hasn’t stopped smiling since he saw Isak. “Try it.” 

It takes him a second to figure out how to eat it- it has a stick that he’s presumably supposed to lift it with, but the thing is so smothered in toppings that he’s nervous they’ll all spill off onto his hand. “Eat it longways!” Philip shouts at him. “Just lift it up and eat it like a corn on the cob!” 

“Oh, fuck it,” Isak says, taking a bite. He meets Even’s eyes, and they’re soft.

“Well?” Isak pretends to think about it. 

“Not too bad,” he eventually concedes. 

“Not too bad?” Philip repeats, offended. “That’s the best corn dog in Oslo.” 

“Hey, take what you can get, friend. ‘Not too bad’ is a ringing endorsement when it comes from Isak Valtersen,” Even says, his gaze never leaving Isak’s face. 

“Hey, you don’t know me,” Isak says. It’s just a joke, something he’s said a hundred times when hanging out with Jonas, but Even winces, smile dimming. “I mean, you do, or you did, but-“ Isak stammers, and then goes quiet when Even brings his thumb to Isak’s face, lightly brushing at the corner of his lip, fingers caressing his jaw. 

“You have mustard _all_ over your face,” he says. “It’s honestly impressive.” Isak can feel his cheeks flush, the way they always did around Even. 

“Oops,” Isak says, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Hey, Isak?” Even asks. 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t think I can get all this off. Do you want to wash up at my studio? It’s just right there,” Even says, gesturing towards a nearby building. 

“Oh. Okay,” Isak says without thinking. He doesn’t want to walk around with mustard on his face in front of Even. 

“Okay. Thanks Philip, he loves it!” Even says to the Englishman, shooting him a thumbs up. “This way,” Even says, leading him to the door as if he hadn’t just shown Isak where the building was. “You should probably finish that,” Even nods at Isak’s corn dog while unlocking the door with one hand. “No point in washing your face if you’re just about to smear it in mustard again.” 

“Wait,” Isak says as the door swings open. “Do you own this whole building?” 

“Yeah, come in,” Even gestures for him to follow. “It’s just a townhouse, really. One unit. My studio is on the second floor, it’s what sold me on the place, but I like having a kitchen and a bathroom with a shower. Which is that room right over there, by the way.” Even points at a door. 

“Oh, right,” Isak has already forgotten why they came in, too distracted by his surroundings. Even has art all over the place, of course. It’s not art he’s made himself, Isak can tell, there are so many different styles of paintings and sculptures everywhere. “This is crazy.” There’s a sitting area with a huge brick fireplace and plush sofa that Isak can imagine Even wrapping himself up in a blanket and napping on. “It’s so homey. My apartment isn’t even this nice, and I live there.” 

“Yeah, I like to be comfortable,” Even shrugs. He reaches over and takes the corn dog from Isak. “I’m gonna put these in the fridge, we can finish them later.” Isak doesn’t comment on the presumption that they’re going to stay here long enough to need to use the refrigerator. 

Isak makes his way to the bathroom while Even is in the kitchen. It’s a nice enough bathroom, clean and bright, but obviously lived-in. Even has hair products and a toothbrush on the edge of the sink. There are still beads of water on the shower wall from the last time it was used. There’s a bottle of cologne with the cap off. 

The absurdity of the situation doesn’t hit until Isak looks in the mirror, sees himself standing in Even’s bathroom with a streak of mustard smeared on his face. He lets out a strangled laugh. “Fucking hell,” he murmurs. 

Isak washes his face and meets back up with Even in the sitting room. “You look nice,” Even says. Isak huffs, looking down at his shoes. He’s never been great at taking compliments. “So…” Even trails off. 

“How’s Sigrid?” Isak asks. 

“She’s good,” Even says quickly, probably relieved at having something to talk about. “She actually got married last spring.” 

“Oh, wow,” Isak says. 

“Yeah, his name is Mathias. He’s nice.”

“Good,” Isak says and means it. 

“Yeah. I actually have two stepbrothers.” 

“No kidding.” 

“Yeah. They live in Sweden. I barely know them,” Even shrugs. 

“Well. It’s different when you’re an adult.” The air is thick with everything they aren’t saying. It’s a pleasant conversation but Isak feels like his throat is closing up. Even has his right hand in his pocket, fidgeting. 

“Yeah. But, I mean. It was obviously going to be different. It’s not like… with us.” What Even’s saying doesn’t make sense but still, Isak understands. 

“Yeah,” He says. Even pulls his hand out of his pocket and is rolling something around in his fist absentmindedly. “What’s that?” Isak asks, gesturing. Even looks down, only just realizing he has something in his hand. 

“Oh.” His fingers open and sitting in his palm is the green marble that Isak gave to him as a child. 

“You still have that?” 

“Yeah…” Even winces and sinks down onto the couch, burying his face in his hands, the marble sitting between his thumb and forefinger, like it’s a part of him. “Shit. This is so weird, I’m so sorry. I know I’ve been so weird. I’m really sorry.” 

“Even,” Isak sits in an armchair across from him. “Can we just… talk about it? We really need to talk about it.” 

“I know. Yes, of course. Just… ask me anything. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” Even looks up, meets Isak’s eyes, and Isak remembers how it feels to know someone’s soul. 

“You loved me, didn’t you?” He’s not pulling any punches, not bothering with the details. He can’t continue another minute without knowing. “You were in love with me back then, and you’ve never gotten over it.” 

“Yes,” Even says. “To all of it. Yes.” 

“It’s been fifteen years.” 

“I know.” 

“I could be married for all you know. I could be a nazi,” Isak says. 

“Are you?” Even quirks an eyebrow. 

“Why did you stop talking to me?” Isak asks without answering. “You said you were going to call and then you were just gone.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, just explain it to me.” 

“I was hurt and I was scared and I felt like shit. I was the reason our parents split, you know? They would probably still be together if I wasn’t… if I was normal.” 

“You are normal. And they broke up because they weren’t right for each other, that’s it.” 

“Yeah, but. I mean, I was eighteen. I was really insecure and I wasn’t managing my bipolar well. And I hated myself.” 

“But I loved you,” Isak says. He’s crying now and he’s not sure when he started. Maybe when Even said he wasn’t normal. “You knew that I loved you.” 

“I didn’t believe it,” Even says, looking destroyed. “I hated myself so much. Every time you were sweet to me, when you kissed me, when you asked me if we could stay friends even though our parents broke up, I didn’t believe you. I thought I was doing you a favor by fucking off.” 

“Well, that’s fucked up,” Isak says. “I told you how I felt. I was serious. It was real. And that wasn’t your decision to make, whether or not I was in love with you, only I could say if I was. And I was.” 

“Are you still?” Even asks, tears in his eyes. 

“I don’t know you anymore,” Isak says. “It’s been fifteen years.” 

“I know how long it’s been, Isak. Every single day, I am so aware of it. But you do know me. I’m still the same person.” 

“No, we’ve both grown up. You have to understand that. You’re still thinking of me like the fifteen year old who begged you to kiss him, but I’ve grown up.”

“I don’t think of you like that,” Even insists.

“Yes, you do!” Isak yells, frustrated. “Fuck! You’ve turned me into a character, you asshole! I’m a real fucking person and you don’t know me anymore!” 

“I’m so sorry,” Even is saying, but Isak barely hears it. “All I want to do is change the past. I wish for it constantly. I want to do it over, I want to do right by you.” 

“You can’t. You know that right? I know you write comic books for a living but time travel isn’t a real thing.” 

“Of course, I know. I just want to fix it.” 

“So fucking fix it, then! You can’t fix it by sitting in a townhouse two blocks from my job and drawing pictures of me when I was a kid! Did you know? When you got this place, did you know that I work nearby? Were you hoping I would walk by?” 

“I didn’t know, I promise I didn’t know.” 

“You live here, don’t you? This isn’t your studio, this is your fucking house! Are you stalking me? Is that what’s happening?”

“No, I swear-“ 

“Show me your studio. I want to see it,” Isak is furious and he’s heartbroken and he can’t believe he’s yelling at Even. In all the ways he imagined their reunion, this was not one of them. “I want to see where you draw.” Even stands and walks up the small staircase. He pauses for a second when he reaches the top, Isak two steps behind. “I need you to know that I’m sorry I’ve made you uncomfortable, that it’s gotten to a place where you could even think that I was following you, or stalking you. I wasn’t even trying to find you. Maybe I should have. I should have apologized sooner, I should have asked you before I published  _ The Golden Magician.  _ I shouldn’t have published it at all. I know that.” Even walks up the last step. “This whole floor is my studio. I’m working on some stuff, so it’s kind of a mess.” Isak follows.

The sun has mostly set, but the first thing Isak thinks is that it must be so bright in the daytime. There are windows everywhere. He had been imagining Even hunched over a small desk in the dark, meticulously illustrating, but the studio is spacious and colorful and full of life. Again, there is art everywhere, but this time it  _ is  _ Even’s. Nothing he sees straightaway looks like himself or Felix. There are several easels with what look like half-finished abstract paintings sitting on them, waiting to be completed. There are a few works in Even’s signature comic style pinned to the wall, but they’re not characters Isak recognizes. There’s a little coffee station set up against the far wall, and a twin mattress lying on the floor. Even’s work desk is smack in the middle of the room, facing one of the giant windows. Isak walks over and runs his fingertips across the papers and pens and pencils. He still doesn’t see any sign of himself. 

“Are you working on any Felix stuff?” He asks. He’s calmed down, now that he’s let himself yell at Even, let himself get the questions and the feelings and the resentment out, he doesn’t feel quite so hurt anymore.

Even clears his throat before he answers. “No, I’m taking a bit of a break from Felix. The next issue is completed but I can’t publish it until after the movie comes out, so. I’ve been playing around with other ideas.” 

Isak doesn’t respond. He just continues looking around, taking in Even’s life. 

“I don’t live here,” Even says, when Isak’s gaze snags over the mattress. “I sleep here sometimes when I get caught up in my work and it gets late. I slept here last night. But this isn’t where I live.” 

“Where do you live?” Isak asks.

“I have a little house about fifteen minutes west of here. Thirty minutes by bus.” 

“Okay.”

“What else do you want to know?” 

“Why did you start drawing me?” Isak is looking him in the eyes now. 

“I’ve always drawn you.”

“You know what I mean. Why did you turn me into a character and put me in your comic books?” 

“Because I missed you, and every character I drew ended up looking like you. I didn’t mean to base him on you, not at first. But I had started drafting this comic book about this kid with superpowers and my mom walked by and said, ‘Oh, what a nice picture of Isak.’ And he turned into you. Suddenly he didn’t have telekinesis, he had healing powers. And I couldn’t stop. There were so many things I loved about you that I wanted to write about, it just kept happening.”

“Why didn’t Sigrid ever call me? I thought… I don’t know. I thought she wanted to keep in touch.”

“She did want to. She misses you. She always has. I can’t answer for her, but I was in a really bad way after she left Terje. So was she. I think it was hard enough for the both of us just getting by. And then all of a sudden it was two years later and she hadn’t called. I don’t think she thought it was her place, at that point.” Even takes a step closer. “What else do you want to know?” He asks again. 

“Do you still hate yourself?” 

“No. I hate some of the things I’ve done. But I’ve learned how to manage my mental health. I wouldn’t say I’m a happy person, most of the time. But I don’t hate myself.” 

“Do you know that I was in love with you?” Isak asks, voice barely above a whisper. “Do you believe it?” 

“Yes.”

“Do you still love me?” 

“Yes. Always. I know that we’ve both changed, and I don’t know if we could make it work, but of course I still love you.” Isak moves closer.

“Do you still want me?” 

Even steps into his space, slowly closing the gap between them, and then he cups Isak’s face in his hands.  _ What’s happening _ . Isak can’t tell what Even is about to do. He never could. 

“Isak,” Even says, just to say it. “Isak.” Their foreheads touch. Their noses are brushing together. Even pushes Isak back, back, back to the edge of the desk. He reaches down and sweeps the pile of papers and art supplies to the floor.  _ Holy shit.  _ Even picks Isak up and sits him on the desk. He steps into the space between Isak’s legs, and it makes Isak’s thighs shake. “Isak. I want you. Fuck, I want you. I’ve wanted you forever.”

_ He’s going to kiss me. Fuck. Please. It’s happening. This is actually happening. I don’t even have to beg for it _ . “Isak,” Even whispers. “Do you want me?” He’s so vulnerable. Isak could devastate him, but he never would. 

“Yes,” Isak breathes. 

And then they’re kissing. Finally, they’re kissing.  _ I missed you, _ Isak thinks as he gasps into Even’s mouth. His body is on fire, every nerve ending lit up in desire. Nothing has ever made him feel as good as Even does. Even starts kissing his neck as Isak wraps his legs around Even’s waist and starts to grind. “Oh, god. Fuck. I’m so sorry I yelled at you,” he starts babbling. He’s not even sure what he’s saying. “Baby. Even.” Even is moaning. Everything Isak says seems to affect him. “Touch me,” Isak whispers into Even’s ear, pressing a chaste kiss into the skin above his jaw while his hips are moving faster, harder, dirtier. 

“Are you sure?” Even groans, tense and still. 

“Yes. Please. It’s my only fantasy, to feel you. It’s all I’ve ever desired.” Even strips Isak of his shirt and kisses down his chest, pushing him farther back on the desk, until Isak is leaning back on his elbows, watching Even move down, down, down. “Oh my god. Fuck. Fuck,” he moans. Even unbuttons and unzips his jeans in one fluid motion, caressing his thighs as he pulls down them off of him maddeningly slowly. “Even, please.” Isak pushes himself up slightly to pull at Even’s shirt. “Off, off,” he mumbles, as Even removes his own clothes.

It’s just seconds but it’s a lifetime before Even’s mouth is back on him, kissing, sucking, biting it’s way to Isak’s cock. Isak is going to have hickeys in indecent places when this is over. 

Even’s fingers touch his cock before his mouth does. Isak’s already a little bit wet at the tip, and Even groans when he thumbs the fluid over the head. Isak is in heaven. He’s never done ecstasy, but he can’t imagine it even comes close. 

Even finally begins mouthing at Isak, gently, teasing at first but then sucking harder while he twists his fist loosely around the base of his cock. Isak is still making noise, saying words, but it’s all nonsense.  _ FuckEvenOhYesWhatFuckPleaseI -  _ Even takes him all the way down, choking a bit, moving his hand to fondle Isak’s balls and sucking hard. “Oh, god, gonna. Even stop, I’m gonna-“ 

“I want you to,” Even comes up for air, “I want to taste it.”  _ Fuck. _ The second his cock is back in Even’s mouth, he comes. 

His mother would die of shame if she knew, but it’s like a spiritual experience. He no longer has thoughts, or opinions, or fears; everything that matters is the way he feels right now, on top of this desk, coming down Even’s throat. His entire body shakes as he rides it out. His throat feels hoarse. Was he screaming? He can’t tell for sure. 

Even’s eyes are watering when pulls off Isak’s cock, lips looking redder than ever and absolutely obscene. Isak is gasping for breath, and he can see Even pulling at his cock, about to come. “On me,” he moans. “Come here, come here,” He leans forward and bats Even’s hand away, grasping Even’s cock. He twists once, twice, and then Even is coming, spurting onto Isak’s chest. He’s gone completely silent, but his eyes are rolling with the force of it, body tensing. 

When he’s finished, he pulls Isak down to the mattress on the floor, and they lay there while they catch their breath. 

“Has it ever been like that-“ Isak starts to ask.

“No. I’ve never felt anything like that before,” Even says, voice wrecked. 

“Oh, fuck,” Isak moans, already getting hard again at the knowledge that  _ he  _ did that,  _ he  _ fucked Even’s throat raw. “This is. I don’t even know. Remind me why we didn’t talk for fifteen years?” They both start laughing. “I’m still mad at you,” Isak says. “We could have been doing this the entire time!” 

“And that was just a blowjob,” Even says in wonder. 

“Oh my god,” Isak moans. “I think I’m broken. I think you broke me.” Even reaches over and grabs at Isak’s half-hard cock. 

“Seems like it works to me.” 

“Baby,” Isak moans. 

“Fuck. I love hearing you call me baby,” Even says, voice tight. When Isak opens his eyes, Even has tears in his. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I’m crying after sex. This is so embarrassing.” 

“Baby,” Isak whispers and watches the tears start to fall. “Let’s talk tomorrow. Can we just… let’s just be together tonight, before we start trying to figure everything out.” 

“Okay. But you do want to figure it out? With me?” Even asks. 

“I’ve always wanted that, baby,” Isak says, kissing him. Even gasps into his mouth. 

“You make me feel so good,” he whispers. “I do still love you. I really do.” 

“Tomorrow,” Isak reminds him, before rolling his hips and letting their cocks drag together. “Tonight, I just want to be close to you.” 

Even is panting into his mouth, grinding back, slipping his leg in between Isak’s for more friction. They bring each other off again like that, just holding each other and kissing lazily. 

When he awakes in the morning, the studio is just as bright as Isak thought it would be. 


	4. closure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I know it's only been a few weeks but it's also been years and I have loved you for all of it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woof. Finally. I meant to get this last chapter out sooner but my life got sucked into retail-hell over the holiday season and then my brain refused to work for a couple weeks afterwards. But it's here now! Thank you again to everyone who has been reading along, I hope you enjoy this final bit. <3

Even awakes alone. He’s uncomfortable, spine twisted in a way that suggests he slept curled up to Isak and didn’t change positions when Isak left. 

Isak left. Even keeps his breath slow and steady, the way he’s taught himself to when he feels the tendrils of panic starting to sink their grip into his brain. Isak has an important job. He has a life. There are a thousand reasons why he wouldn’t be able to sleep in with Even, even if he wanted to. 

_ But what if that was it? _ He knew it was a possibility when Isak agreed to meet with him; that Isak was just looking for closure, and that once he got it, he’d be gone for good.  _ But he wanted to talk. He said he wanted to talk today.  _

Even checks his phone, meanders around the empty studio looking for a note. There’s nothing. He’s alone. 

  
  
  


Most days Even is happy. He knows why some would assume otherwise, but he truly hasn’t just been curled up alone in Oslo, waiting for Isak to come back into his life. He hasn’t been stalking him on social media, hasn’t been asking around for tiny pieces of information about Isak’s life. 

He just thinks of him. He feels grateful for the time they had together as adolescents. He hopes Isak is flourishing. He wonders about him, if he’s happy, if he’s in love- but Even lives his life. He dates, he has friends. He makes a living doing something he loves, and he’s good at it. He has a thriving online following, and he finds true joy in connecting with those who read his comics. He was the best man in his friend Mahdi’s wedding a month ago. 

Most days, he’s happy. 

  
  
  


“So, hypothetical scenario,” Even posits that night when Mahdi and his wife Mari come over for pizza. They’re at Even’s actual house, the one he lives in. He doesn’t usually invite people to come over to his studio. “Let’s say I hooked up with someone last night.” 

“Nice,” Mahdi says. 

“And when I woke up this morning, they were gone, and I haven’t heard from them since.” 

“Okay? So you had a one night stand?” Mari asks. Even really likes her- they even went on a disastrous first date once that began with Even accidentally spilling a glass of red wine on her and ended with her bursting into tears over a recent breakup. He introduced her to Mahdi a few days later and the next time he saw her cry was on their wedding day. 

“Hypothetically,” Mahdi interjects. 

“Right,” Mari says. 

“Well, it wasn’t supposed to be. We said we were going to talk today. About us.” 

“How did you meet this hypothetical person?” Mahdi asks. 

“Uh. Well,” Even takes a deep breath. “Let’s say it’s Isak.” There’s a moment of stunned silence.

“Isak?” Mari asks. Even nods. 

“Isak from your childhood, Isak? Isak as in your muse?” Mahdi asks. 

“Don’t call him my muse.” 

“Well, that’s what he is.”

“No, it’s not- it’s not like that,” Even stammers. 

“Okay, what is it like?” Mari asks gently. If she wasn’t so genuinely empathetic it would sound condescending. 

“It’s like...we were really young, you know? When we knew each other. But I loved him. And I thought for a while that it was just teenage infatuation, that I’d meet someone else who made me feel the same way, but I haven’t. It hasn’t even come close.”

“Okay, so… what, you called him up? Asked him out for dinner and a movie?” Mahdi asks. Mari tuts at him and he throws his hands up. “I’m just trying to understand!” 

“I don’t even think I understand what happened,” Even groans into his hands. “He found out about the comics.” 

“Well, that was only a matter of time, right?” Mari asks. She’s not wrong, and she’s brought it up before. The fact that as  _ The Golden Magician  _ becomes more and more mainstream, the more likely it is that Isak will see it, will recognize himself in Felix. 

“Right.”

“And that was kind of the point, right?” Mahdi asks. 

“It… not entirely,” Even says. He’s never admitted it before, how much he hoped Isak would see it. The fantasies he had about Isak knocking on his door on some rainy afternoon and falling into his arms, knowing that Even has loved him all this time. 

“So, what happened?” Even takes them through his last few days, from the first notification on his cellphone to waking up in an empty studio on a cold mattress. They listen intently, smiling and frowning in all the right places. 

“So, have you texted him?” Mahdi asks after Even’s story trails off into a shrug. 

“Well, no. He’s the one who was missing this morning, shouldn’t he text me?” Mari groans and Mahdi laughs. 

“No, Even- you need to reach out to him,” Mari insists. 

“But he’s the one who said we’d talk everything over today,” Even says weakly. 

“Even. Dear, sweet, lovely, romantic, stupid Even,” she reaches across the table and takes his hands in hers. “Isak has been waiting for you to call him for fifteen years.  _ Call him.”  _

  
  
  


It rings four times, and Even thinks for a moment he’s about to get Isak’s voicemail, when miraculously- “Hey!” Isak’s voice is bright. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to call.” 

“Hi,” He hopes Isak can’t hear the relief in his voice. “Sorry, I just- I wasn’t expecting you to be gone this morning.” 

“Well, I had work,” Isak says after a pause that makes Even’s heart thud. “But you got my note, right?” 

“Uh, no, I didn’t see a note.” 

“Well, I left you a note on your desk. I guess I should have just texted.” 

“I checked my desk!” Even splutters. He did, he checked everywhere. 

“Uh, it was on top of one of your drawings. The one with the turtle.” 

“Fuck. I didn’t see it.” 

“Well, go look again, I promise it’s there,” Isak laughs. 

“I believe you. And I’m not at the studio anymore, I went home.” 

“It’s okay. I’m just glad you called anyway,” Even can practically hear Isak’s blush through the phone. He makes a mental note to buy Mari flowers. 

  
  
  


They talk for hours, about everything and nothing. Isak tells him about his work at the hospital, about a patient named Ana that loves  _ The Golden Magician _ , and Even promises he’ll come to one of her appointments to surprise her. He learns about Isak’s friends, and finds himself thinking fondly of them, despite not even knowing what they look like. 

Even tells Isak about Mahdi and Mari, how they’ve been there for him through his good and bad days, how they know how to talk him down from a panic attack, the way Isak used to (except not the way Isak used to, at all). He talks about his career, how much he loves telling stories that people connect to. He talks about the girl he dated for a year in Uni, Sonja, and how she helped him learn how to be confident in himself.  _ Confidence is a skill, Even _ , she had told him.  _ You have to work at it.  _

And then, as they’re both drifting off, they talk wistfully about the past. “I remember watching you pull yourself up out of the neighbors pool one time when we were like fourteen and sixteen, and I thought I was going to lose it,” Even says, voice deep and slow and sleepy. 

“What?” Isak squawks. “I hated my body back then. I was so small.” 

“You were beautiful. You are beautiful.” 

“I wish you had told me that then,” Isak says. 

“Me too. I’ve never known anyone like you.” Isak is silent, and Even wonders if he’s finally tipped over into sleep.

“Do you think this is fast?” Isak says right before Even is about to whisper good night. 

“You’ve known me since you were twelve. Do  _ you _ think it’s fast?” 

“I think I haven’t known you in a very long time.” Isak says and it breaks Even’s heart. “But I want to. So can we just… hang out? For a while? I just want to keep talking like this.” 

“Isak, we can do this however you want to. If you want to have phone dates once a week for a year without ever seeing each other in person, we can do that. If you want to buy a house with me this weekend, we can do that.” 

“Do you really mean that?” Isak asks and Even can hear a smile in his voice. 

“I’ve never meant anything more.” 

“Okay. Let’s just take it as it goes. A minute at a time.”

“Perfect.”

  
  
  


It turns out, Isak’s version of taking it as it goes involves a lot of sex, and a lot of talking. More talking than sex, but barely. “Have to make up for it,” Isak sighs one night as Even kisses his way down his neck. “All those years apart. We owe it to the universe.” 

“We owe the universe sex?”

“Yes.”

“Works for me,” Even says before sucking a mark into Isak’s neck. He’d always wondered what Isak would look like covered in hickeys. (Fucking gorgeous, as it turns out. Go figure.)

When they finish, after they’ve cleaned themselves off and caught their breath, Isak gives him a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose and it’s so sweet that it makes him blush. 

“What, now you’re going to get shy?” Isak teases. 

“I’m just…” Even trails off. He shakes his head and smiles. “You’re a little overwhelming.” 

“In a good way, I hope.”

“In the best way,” he assures Isak, running a hand through his curls. Isak gives him a soft, droopy-eyed smile. 

“That feels good,” he murmurs. “You make me feel so good.” 

“I’m glad,” Even says, and means it. “I want to make you feel amazing. I want to make you really happy.” They fall asleep like that, whispering to each other with flushed cheeks and easy smiles. 

  
  
  


Three weeks after they reconnect, Even meets Magnus. He’s got Isak crowded into the corner of his kitchen, kissing up his neck, when the door buzzes.

“Fuck,” Isak groans. 

“Ignore it,” Even whispers, “Pretend you’re not home.” 

“No, it’s- I forgot. It’s Magnus, he’s supposed to be coming by,” Isak says, pushing Even off of him. “He left his girlfriend’s casserole dish here ages ago and he needs it back before she realizes it’s gone.” 

“Do you want me to hide?” Even asks, smiling. 

“No,” Isak says, rolling his eyes. “But you might want to.” He doesn’t have time to ask Isak what he means before Isak opens the front door and a golden retriever of a man tumbles through. 

“Bro, I have like five minutes to grab the dish and get out of here, Iben’s on her way home- oh, hey!” He greets Even with a smile and a handshake. “I’m Magnus.” 

“Even,” He replies. Magnus’ energy is so positive he can’t help but smile back at him. 

“Nice to- wait,” Magnus stops and stares. “Are you Even?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“He literally just said his name is Even, Mags,” Isak interjects. 

“Are you Even Bech Næsheim?” Magnus’ eyes are wide. 

“Oh. Yeah,” Even says. He’s seen that expression before. He knows what’s about to happen. 

“Holy shit!” Magnus pulls him into a hug, startling a gasp out of Even. “I love  _ The Golden Magician _ so much, man!” Even laughs, patting Magnus on the back. 

“Well, thanks. I’m glad.” 

“Hey, Mags? Didn’t you have to get going?” Isak says, pushing between the two of them to press the casserole dish into Magnus’ hands. 

“Oh, Iben won’t mind! Since when are you two hanging out? Isak, why didn’t you tell me? I told you I wanted to meet Even!” 

“Did you?” Even asks, trying not to enjoy the flattery too much. This is not the kind of person he had ever imagined Isak making friends with, but he’s glad he was wrong. 

“Yeah! Like a month ago! He was telling us all about you and how you based Felix off of him and you guys were going to meet up and he was super nervous about it but then afterwards he wouldn’t talk to us about you at all- ow!” Isak pinches the skin on Magnus’ arm. 

“You can talk Even’s ear off later, Magnus. Go home.” 

“Shit, sorry. Okay. Bye, Even!” Magnus waves at him, turns to leave, and then turns again to pull him into another hug. “Really good to meet you,” he says. 

“Magnus!” Isak snaps.

“Okay, I’m going!” 

Only after Magnus closes the door behind him does Even see Isak exhale. 

“I guess I should have made you hide,” he says, not meeting Even’s eyes. 

“No, he was cool,” Even says. “Really enthusiastic. I like that.” Isak scoffs. “Why are you upset?” 

“I’m not- I’m just. We haven’t really talked about what we’re doing, here. So. I guess I just got nervous about what Magnus might say to you.” 

“I thought we were taking it slow,” Even says, confused. 

“We are. And that’s fine, it’s been really… been really great,” Isak says, pacing. 

“Yeah, it’s been great,” He agrees. “And it’s what you wanted… right?” 

“Yes, it is,” Isak says, settling into a spot next to Even at the counter, but still looking down at the floor. “But maybe I want to like… introduce you to people. And I’m not sure how to do it.” 

“Well, you can say we’re friends… or you can say something else?” Even suggests. 

“I can’t say we’re friends. Not to Magnus and Jonas, at least. They know too much about me and the way I felt about you, before.” 

“The way you felt before?” 

“Yeah, when we were teenagers.” Isak says, finally meeting Even’s eyes. 

“Right,” Even says, twisting around to face him straight on. “The way you felt back then, and the way you feel now are different and you think it’s going to be hard to explain that to your friends.” 

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Isak says, rolling his eyes like Even is being deliberately slow. 

“Okay, tell me what you mean,” Even says. 

“I mean that I think we should be boyfriends!” Isak says, speaking quickly so all the words run together. 

“You do?” Even asks. He can feel the smile on his face, knows it probably looks wide and toothy and ridiculous but he can’t help it. 

“Yeah, I mean. Don’t you?” 

“Oh, I definitely do,” Even says, lifting a hand to Isak’s jaw, taking in the soft, pleased,  _ relieved _ look on his face. “I love you.” Isak all but purrs at words. “I know it’s only been a few weeks but it’s also been years and I have loved you for all of it.” 

Isak doesn’t say it back- Even wasn’t expecting him to. He just wraps his arms around Even’s neck and pulls him into a kiss. “Okay. We’re doing this, then,” Isak whispers into his mouth. “For real.”

“We are.” 

  
  
  


Even’s mother cries when he tells her. They meet at a coffee shop, just the two of them, and he tells her he’s in love. He tells her he’s been with someone for a month or so and it’s serious. 

“I’m so happy for you, sweetheart,” she says. “When can I meet them?” 

“Well, you already know him,” Even says and watches her face as she realizes. 

“Is it Isak?” She asks. Her voice is hushed. She hasn’t said Isak’s name in years. Even opens his mouth to say ‘yes’ but finds that he can only nod. “Oh, Isak,” She cries, hand on her chest. Like a mother. “Is he- how is he?” 

“He’s amazing,” Even says, and finds himself tearing up with her. “He’s a surgeon, he works on kids with tumors.” 

“Oh,” she’s fully crying now. “Oh,” she repeats. It makes Even laugh. “Is he happy?” 

“He’s happy. We both are.” 

“Oh, Even!” She’s being loud and he knows people are looking but he lets her pull him into her arms. “I always wondered- and I thought maybe- I am just so happy. I am so  _ relieved _ .” 

“Me too, Mama.” 

“Will he come over for dinner?”

“I’ll ask.”

  
  
  


It’s two weeks before they make it to dinner at his mother’s. Isak is nervous, fidgeting next to him in the car on the way over. Even reaches over and takes his hand to calm his nerves. 

“Are you sure we don’t need to dress nice?” Isak is already dressed nicer than he needs to be- a button-down tucked into khakis. He looks handsome, as always, but not comfortable. 

“I’m positive. It’s just my mom. You know she won’t care.” Isak hums in response, sounding unconvinced. “Hey, do you remember when she convinced your dad to let you go to Christmas Eve service in your hoodie? She won’t care, Is. You could turn up in your operating scrubs and she wouldn’t care as long as you didn’t get blood on her couch. She just wants to see you. And you look amazing anyway.” Isak scoffs. “You do!” 

“Okay, okay. I believe you,” he says, and Even can’t see it from where he’s sitting but he knows Isak has a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

When they arrive, Even is proved right- Sigrid is so excited to see Isak that she is waiting for them outside. He barely has time to park the car before she’s flinging the passenger door open and leaning inside to hug a laughing Isak. 

“Sweetheart! I am so happy to see you.” 

“Let him get out of the car first,” Even teases. 

“No, it’s okay,” Isak can barely be heard from where his face is tucked into her shoulder. “I’m really happy to see you too.” 

  
  
  


It’s not that it’s uncomfortable- not at all, actually. Isak and Sigrid always clicked, always genuinely enjoyed each other’s company, and that hasn’t changed. Isak makes her laugh the big head-thrown-back kind of belly laughs that he’s always drawn out of Even as well. He makes fast friends with Even’s stepfather Mathias when they discover they have the same alma mater. 

Even meets his mother’s eyes at one point over dinner, when Isak and Mathias are laughing about some apparently thousand-year-old professor they both had, and she shrugs her shoulders like  _ can you believe it? Isak is with us. He’s here. _

So it’s not uncomfortable. But the thing is that there’s a difficult conversation that needs to happen, and everyone knows it. As nervous as Isak had been earlier in the evening, Even’s mother seems to be feeling it tenfold. Isak probably can’t tell, but Even can. He can see it in her smile, in the small shaky breaths she keeps taking. So when she pulls Isak aside after dessert, he knows not to follow them upstairs. 

He helps Mathias clean the kitchen while he waits, and tries to focus on their conversation rather than imagining the one going on above them. “Isak’s a smart man,” Mathias comments absent-mindedly.

“He is,” Even agrees. 

“I was a bit worried. I don’t know everything about his father but I’ve heard enough that it made me nervous.” 

“Well, Isak’s nothing like his father.” 

“I know, I don’t mean that I thought he’d be the same. I was just concerned that maybe he would blame Sigrid for leaving. I have to assume Terje may have not said the nicest things about her after they split, and it would be only human for him to take his father’s side, especially when she failed to stay in contact. Anyway, he clearly isn’t harboring resentment towards her, and I’m glad for that.” 

“Yeah,” Even says dumbly. “He’s pretty level-headed.” 

“You make a good match.”

“Right,” Even snorts. “He keeps me balanced.” 

“Well, yes, but I didn’t mean- fuck. What I mean is that I see a lot of myself in him, the way I see a lot of your mother in you. That’s all.” Even smiles. 

“Thanks, Mathias. That means a lot.” Mathias gives him a pat on the shoulder, and Even, laughing, pulls him into a hug. “You’re a really good person. I’m glad you married my mom.” 

  
  
  


When Isak and Sigrid eventually rejoin them, they both have red eyes and relieved smiles. They stick together the rest of the night, Isak tucked under Sigrid’s arm like a child. 

Isak and Even leave in the early morning hours with a backseat full of leftovers. “That was fun,” Isak says, eyes already shut, drifting off to sleep in the seat next to him. “I love your mom.” 

“She loves you too.”

“Yeah,” Isak says before yawning. “I know.” 

  
  
  


“Why am I nervous?” Even asks, crossing and uncrossing his legs. They’re in Isak’s office, and he wishes he could appreciate the sight of Isak sitting behind his big mahogany desk in a white coat that has  _ Dr. Isak Valtersen  _ embroidered above the pocket. 

“You should be. She’s very scary,” Isak grins. 

“Fuck off,” Even laughs. He’s meeting Ana today.  _ She’s small for her age _ , Isak had told him on their way in.  _ So she looks even younger than she is. But you can talk to her like an adult. She’s smart and she’ll appreciate it. _

Even does his best to remember this when she comes in, this little girl holding onto a stuffed cat with one hand and her mother with the other. “I want you to meet my friend, Even,” Isak says to her. “He has a gift for you, for being such a good patient.” 

“Hi, Ana,” Even’s voice cracks. He’s usually really good at this part, at making fans feel comfortable and special. He doesn’t know why this time feels so much harder. “I heard you like my comics. Your doctor told me you’ve been reading  _ The Golden Magician _ .” Ana gasps and covers her face with the cat. 

“Did you make  _ The Golden Magician _ ? Like, all the drawings and stuff?” 

“I did. I wrote all the words and I drew all the pictures.” Ana squeals and then throws her arms around his waist, as high as she can reach. 

“Felix is my favorite!” Even scoops her up and lets her koala hug him- arms around his neck and legs around his waist. 

“I like Felix, too,” he laughs. Ana’s parents are teary-eyed, whispering back and forth with Isak. 

“Can we take a selfie?” She asks, leaning back in his grip so she can look him in the eye. 

“Of course!” 

Isak takes the pictures for them- one with Ana’s parents and few with just Even and Ana. They all laugh together for a few minutes, letting Ana squeal and cry and kiss Even’s face. 

“Okay, well, I need to give you guys time to talk to Dr. Valtersen,” Even says when Isak nods at the clock, “But before I go I wanted to give you something to celebrate your good health, okay?” 

“Okay!” Even pulls a sheet of paper out of his backpack and gives it to her. “Oh my gosh,” Ana cries, “It’s me and Felix! Mom, look!” It wasn’t much, and Even had only Isak’s description of Ana to go off of, but he had drawn her as a caped hero, making silly faces back-to-back with Felix like they were posing for a picture.  _ For a hero with super strength, _ he had written in the corner,  _ Thanks for the inspiration. Your friend, Even. _ “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” 

“Oh, Ana. Thanks for making me happy,” Even says. “And I’m going to tell you a secret okay?”

“Okay!”

“You can’t tell anyone!” He stage-whispers and everyone laughs. 

“I won’t, I promise!” 

“Okay. I just want you to know that there’s going to be a new issue out soon and you might see a really cool girl that looks awfully familiar to you in it,” he winks. It takes Ana a second, but she’s smart. 

“I’m going to be in it?” 

“You just might be,” He says. 

  
  
  


He only plans to write her into a single scene, but by the time his deadline rolls around she’s become a full-fledged side character, one of the only other superheroes in his little Felix-verse. 

“Ana’s going to freak,” Isak laughs as he hooks his chin over Even’s shoulder, watching him shade the red lining of her coat. “I don’t know how you draw her so accurately, you only met her once.”

“Well, she made quite an impression.” 

“Mmm,” Isak hums, pressing a kiss behind Even’s ear. “How much do you have left to do tonight?”

“Depends.” 

“On what?” 

“How distracting you make yourself,” he grins. 

“Challenge accepted.” 

  
  
  


Being with Isak is easy, most days. It’s nothing like he’d imagined and everything like he’d imagined and they’re different than they used to be but they’re also the same. 

Sometimes it’s hard. When Even finds out three months into their relationship that Isak hasn’t told his father they’re together, it hurts. His brain tells him that Isak is ashamed, or that he doesn’t have faith in their relationship, or he secretly hates Even and is about to break his heart for fun, or, or, or. Isak kisses his forehead and tells him he’s cherished. He explains that he doesn’t share much of his life with his father, and that he’ll call him the next day, he’s sorry, it didn’t cross his mind because Even is important and his father just isn’t. 

Usually it’s easy. Their lives fuse together almost effortlessly. They host a dinner one night and discover that Jonas and Mahdi are old friends. Their clothes get mixed together in both of their closets until they can hardly remember what belongs to whom. Isak comes home from work red-faced one day because he had accidentally worn a pair of Even’s shoes and had tripped over his feet all day. 

They don’t sleep separately anymore. It’s a bit ridiculous, the two of them moving around between three different beds but they always end up in the same one. 

“I’m thinking about selling my house,” Even mentions one night when they’re at Isak’s. 

“I like your house.” 

“I know but it’s so far away.” They never sleep there when Isak has to be up for work. It doesn’t make sense. 

“Hm. Are you looking at new places?” 

“No, not really.” 

“Okay.” 

“What do you think?” 

“I think I just want to be wherever it is you are.” Even leans in to kiss him, and they’re smiling. Being with Isak is easy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/quarterleigh) sometimes and I'm starting fresh on tumblr [here](https://canaryblush.tumblr.com/) as soon as I can find the time to set it up. Come talk to me!


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